


A Question Of Trust

by bitch_I_might_be



Series: Trust 'Verse [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton is George Washington's Biological Son, Angst, Body Dysphoria, Coming Out, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Smut, I don't know how sex ed worked in the olden times, I swear this had a plot once, John Laurens is once again just the best man in the history of ever, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Smut, Trans Alexander Hamilton, Trans Male Character, Unsafe Sex, and a trans man who never expected to have sex at all until Mister John Laurens walked into his life, but I bet it wasn't very good, demisexual Alexander Hamilton if you squint, especially not in the case of a gay man who never expected to come near a vagina, for like a thousand words, so I just wanted to make clear the father in question is Mister Washington, the author is not trans, then it's just porn, this is in no way important to the story but Alex mentions his father once, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29917635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitch_I_might_be/pseuds/bitch_I_might_be
Summary: Alexander Hamilton was a man.His body... did not reflect that.John Laurens was a man who liked men, and he had fallen in love with Alexander, and-And Alex would have to tell him about the way he was, even if he'd rather walk barefoot through hot coals than have John look at him with disgust and leave him.He hadn't expected that perhaps John wouldn't want to leave.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: Trust 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209635
Comments: 19
Kudos: 38





	A Question Of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Trans Alex lives in my head rent-free, and that is the only explanation I have for this.
> 
> I use 'breasts' for Alex's chest in this, but I don't really refer to his genitals at all except for very vague language, like 'between his legs' or just 'entrance', so yeah :)
> 
> Also can you tell I stan John Laurens, he's the best boyfriend in everything I write, lol
> 
> Oh and DISCLAIMER: Pulling out is in no way, shape, or form an effective contraception method, wrap it before you tap it, kids!!!

Alex was a liar. A filthy, despicable liar of the worst kind, the one that lied about fundamental things without shame or second thought, and he knew, _he knew,_ he would get caught in the net of lies he himself had spun, it was only a matter of time.

He was a horrible person, right down to his bones.

How could he? Everyone else didn’t matter, he would have to lie to the faceless masses until the day he took his last breath, but he couldn’t believe he still found it in him to lie to _John._

John Laurens, the sweetest man alive. The most _patient_ man in the whole world–they had been- involved? Involved. With each other for months now. Months of stolen kisses, of fingers brushing underneath desks, secret touches around corners, of sharing a bed, even, and yet- they hadn’t done anything.

Because Alex lied.

John tried to initiate a more intimate touch, sometimes, fingers skirting the hem of his shirt or the lacings of his breeches, and every time Alex would catch his hand and move it back to safer spots. Give him a nervous smile and a small “I’m sorry”, and John’s lips would quirk into a crooked smile that made his stomach flutter, nothing but unrestrained adoration in his eyes when he responded, “It’s fine.”

And he _meant it._ He never pushed for anything, but that just made Alex feel worse! If he turned out to be an asshole, he at least wouldn’t feel bad about denying him this–and, well, if he turned out to be an asshole, maybe Alex wouldn’t feel the faint tug of… _something_ every time he watched him undress, watched his toned back-muscles ripple when he pulled the shirt over his head, warmth curling in the pit of Alex’s stomach in a way that was both unfamiliar and exciting.

It took a while before Alex could accept what that strange feeling meant.

He wanted him. He wanted John just as John wanted him; there was just a small problem.

John liked men. Alex… had not all properties of one. And he hadn’t told him, because he was selfish, because he knew John wouldn’t want him anymore if he did, because he was scared shitless to tell anyone at all.

But he owed it to him. John had been so sweet and patient and gentle with him all those months, and Alex had thanked him by lying to his face, again and again.

That internal struggle was what had brought the both of them there, sitting on the edge of their shared bed, a good couple of inches of distance between them, and he could tell that little detail alone worried John. They didn’t usually keep any kind of distance when they were on their own.

“I’ve been lying to you,” Alex said, not meeting John’s gaze, and bit his lip to keep the tears that already stung his eyes at bay.

“Hey, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be, darling,” he said and scooted himself closer. Of course he would say that, of course he would give him the benefit of the doubt, because this man was just ridiculously perfect, and Alex had gone ahead and ruined it for himself, as usual.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, John,” he said and blinked a few times, swallowed thickly.

“So, why not enlighten me?” he replied, his voice playful, but it was deliberate, he could tell–John was trying to get him more comfortable, keep the mood light.

Alex took a deep breath and raised his eyes, forced himself to turn his head and look at John, and the playful air fell off him in an instant when he saw the tears threatening to spill over his lashes.

“Darling-”

“I’m so sorry,” he cut in, not caring that he had interrupted him, he just needed to get it out before the small flame brought forth by a lone spark of courage extinguished itself again. “I’m sorry, John, I’ve lied to you for _so long,_ I know I should have told you in the beginning, but I was so scared, and I knew you wouldn’t want me anymore-”

“Now, just hold on a second,” John said and raised his hand when Alex opened his mouth to continue nonetheless. “Why would you ever think I wouldn’t want you? Alex, there’s nothing on this earth that could make me stop loving you.”

“Don’t say that,” he choked and shook his head, causing a tear to fall from his eye. “Don’t, it’ll just hurt so much more-”

“Alexander,” he said, calm, worry shining from sky-blue eyes, and reached out to brush his tear away with a gentle sweep of his thumb. “talk to me. What is this about?”

Alex gathered himself, calmed his breathing, counted backwards from ten. “I’m not… who you think I am. I- I mean, I am... a man,” he stuttered, and John flashed him a careful smile.

“I can see that,” he said, and Alex bit down on his quivering bottom-lip.

“But I haven’t always- no, that’s not, I mean, I _have_ always been a man, but I haven’t always… looked… like one. And I- I still don’t,“ he forced out and squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach so severely knotted he felt he might throw up.

There was a significant pause, and Alex hated it. He would rather John just hurl insults at him than stay silent like this–he couldn’t take the tension, the not knowing, but he couldn’t open his eyes, either, because what if John’s beautiful, loving eyes held an expression of disgust? Of _loathing?_

Alex wouldn’t be able to take that.

“I’m not sure I understand,” he said, finally, and he _had_ to be playing with him now. He would make him say it.

He pried his eyes back open, but didn’t look at him. “I was born a woman,” he said, and something within him gave when the words left his tongue; he hadn’t acknowledged that fact out loud to _anyone_ outside his family, ever.

And he never would again. It felt like something never supposed to come into contact with air had been exposed to a cool breeze, like he had just ripped his own liver out and blown on it.

John frowned at him, searched his face. “What do you mean, ‘born a woman’? I- I’m sorry, darling, I don’t really-”

The realisation hit him like a brick to the face. John wasn’t playing with him, the sweet fool had genuinely no idea what Alex was trying to tell him.

He blinked the tears from his eyes and steeled himself, shifted on the spot to spread his thighs the slightest bit. John fell silent when he reached for his hand and watched as Alex guided it to the small space between his legs and pressed it firmly to his crotch.

A beat of silence passed in which both of them had flushed dark enough to rival a tomato, and Alex had to take his lip between his teeth to stop himself from squirming against the warm, gentle pressure between his legs.

“Oh,” John said quietly and cleared his throat. “ _Oh._ ”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, too aware of the hand on _that place,_ the hand he had put there himself, and suddenly those fingers pressed closer, gave a firm, experimental stroke, and Alex’s breath hitched as his thighs jerked, a feeling sweet like honey spreading in his belly, and John ripped his hand away as though he’d been burned, cheeks impossibly redder.

“Oh, my- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” he broke off and clicked his mouth shut. They just sat and stared at each other for a long, silent moment, and then John’s eyes flickered from his face down to his chest, and Alex knew what he was going to ask probably even before he knew it.

“Do you have-”

Alex tugged his shirt up until the edges of the bandages he used to flatten his chest peeked out from the fabric, and John frowned, concerned.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

Ha, no. Alex didn’t bind them nearly as tight as he was tempted to sometimes; he had made that mistake before, when he first started doing this, when his- his chest had just started developing. He had run out of breath so much quicker then, and his chest had hurt, and when he had taken the bindings off, there had been bruises–and after roughly a week of that, Pa had noticed, and he had been _furious._

He had taken everything that could have possibly been used to bind his chest away until the bruises had healed, told him if he wanted to ever do that again, he _would_ make it looser, or he _would_ have to live without it.

That had been the first time Alex had really screamed at him, the first real, ugly fight they’d ever had, because Alex had felt so betrayed, so misunderstood, like his father was doing it to hurt him, not because Alex had hurt himself.

He never pulled the bandages as tight as he wanted to now. And it hadn’t hurt, since.

“No,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders and let his shirt fall back down. Alex fidgeted in his seat, glanced at John before he fixed his eyes to his own feet. “Are you not... repulsed?”

Another pause. “Are you kidding me? How could I be- it’s still _you,_ Alex. I have never once been _repulsed_ by you, and I won’t start now, thank you very much.”

Alex whipped his head around and stared, wide-eyed, convinced he hadn’t heard that right, that he couldn’t possibly have heard that right.

“You’re- you’re not? You’re not mad? Not disgusted? I _lied_ to you, John!” he said, thinking that perhaps the situation hadn’t fully sunken in with him yet, but John just blinked at him.

“For good reason. This is not something to share lightly, and for your own safety’s sake, I’m glad you waited until you were sure I wouldn’t- wouldn’t do something bad to you,” he finished, mouth twisting off to the side in discomfort. 

“But anyway,” he went on and brightened, shot him a sweet smile. “this explains why you never wanted to... you know. I was starting to think you just didn’t want to with _me,_ specifically.”

Alex huffed a surprised laugh, and shook his head, incredulous at the notion alone. John had thought himself the problem? John, whose kiss made Alex tingle in ways he had never experienced before?

The laughter died on his lips when his next worry bumped against his forehead. “You said you were… exclusively attracted to men.”

John bit his lip. “Yes,” he said slowly. “And you are a man.”

“I don’t really… look the part, though, without my clothes,” he said and cut his eyes away, but a soft touch to his cheek made him look back up.

“That’s fine, Alex. You are a man and I love you, and I want- I mean, only if you want that as well, and it’s fine if you don’t, but, I want to make you feel good.”

Alex covered the hand on his face with his own as his heart stuttered in his chest, the relief washing over him and taking away his doubts like a current smoothing out a jagged piece of rock.

“I want that,” he whispered, and John gave him a smile and leaned in to kiss him.

* * *

They started slow. Just exploring each other’s bodies, and the first few times, hands would stay above clothes; Alex was beyond thankful for that. Between the two of them, John was the more experienced one, not that that was difficult–Alex hadn't even so much as touched himself, had never wanted to. As far as he was concerned, what was between his legs wasn’t really a part of him, and he had never felt the urge to touch it more than was strictly necessary.

With John, it was different. He wanted John to touch him, he wanted his hands everywhere, all the places Alex had left unexplored, and he wanted to touch John in turn.

John was more than happy to let him. He was so patient with him, like he was in everything else, and he let Alex kiss the freckles scattered over his shoulders and chest, let him nuzzle his nose into the dip of his collarbone, let him play with the sparse hair on his chest, and when he faltered, unsure of how to proceed, he would guide him along with a sweet kiss and a gentle relocation of his hand from one place to the other.

And… it took a while, but Alex eventually worked up the courage to take the bandages off in front of John. His breasts were on the smaller side, but they were still unmistakably _not male,_ and it was like a bucket of ice-water had been emptied over his head the first time he let John see.

Because John liked _men._ He didn’t like breasts, he wasn’t attracted to soft curves and wide hips like Alex had, he wanted hard planes and muscle and coarse hair- but John had just told him he was beautiful, planted a soft kiss on his sternum, and had brushed a thumb over his nipples until he had Alex panting and squirming.

The first time Alex had touched John’s cock, he had been unsure and clumsy, had relied entirely on John to position his hand the right way and show him how to move it to make it feel good–he hadn’t even _seen_ another man’s dick before, and to have one in his palm, hard and heavy and hot, sticky-slick with what John had called ‘pre-cum’, it had been almost overwhelming. When he’d made John cum all over Alex’s hand with a final twist of his wrist, a muffled groan of _Alex_ in his ear, he had felt powerful.

He had done that. He’d wanted to do it again, and more.

A few days later, Alex had found out he could be on his knees with a hand at the back of his head and still have all the control, and it had been intoxicating.

That just prompted John into wanting to do the same for him, though, and Alex was… sceptical. 

“Are you sure you want to put your mouth down there?” he said and shivered as John stroked his thumb over that little nub that made him twitch, and kissed his neck.

“Says the man who had my dick in his mouth not five minutes ago,” he responded and pushed himself up to be able to look at him.

“That was different.”

John raised a brow. “How so?”

Alex opened his mouth and closed it again, averted his eyes, bashful, suddenly very aware of how naked he was. “At least you knew how that was supposed to be done, I- I don’t know anything, John.”

He breathed a soft chuckle and leaned back down to peck Alex’s cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” he said and thumbed firm circles around that sensitive bundle of nerves. A zap of energy went through Alex, from his core to the top of his head and down into his toes, and settled in his belly, hot and urgent. “I mean, I’ve never been with-” he cut himself off, and even in his slightly dazed state, Alex knew he had been about to say _a woman._

“I’ve only ever handled cocks before, but even I know that _this._ ” He increased the pressure, and Alex’s thighs twitched helplessly against John’s hips as Alex bit his lip to muffle a moan. “Is a good spot. I’m a quick study, I’ll figure it out, darling.”

“Very reassuring,” he remarked, even as he arched his back and pressed his hips up into John’s hand. John gave him a smile and kissed him, and Alex’s head spun when he pulled away and kissed his way down over his chest, to his navel, further down until he could watch his thumb’s tireless movement.

“You look so good like this,” he whispered, traced his thumb gently down through his folds, let it ghost over his wet opening, and Alex tensed.

“Nothing inside,” he said, a meek reminder, and John peeked up at him with a reassuring smile, turned his head to press soft kisses to the inside of his thigh.

“I know, darling.”

He put a last kiss to Alex’s belly, smack in the middle of the stretch between his navel and the patch of hair between his legs, and shuffled into a more comfortable position for what he was about to do.

Warm breath puffed against him, _down there,_ and the sensation, the mere idea that John was going to put his mouth on him, made him flush up to his ears. 

Then, there was a tongue–searing hot and soft and so wet, licking from his entrance up to the little nub, and it flattened against it, and Alex clapped a hand over his mouth before he let loose a scream that would wake the whole house. A full-body shudder shook him, every muscle in his body tense with the pleasure that radiated from his core, and desperate little whimpers broke from behind the hand that was supposed to muffle them.

“Good?” he heard John ask, but just barely. It was as if he was underwater, or like his ears were stuffed with cotton, and he nodded his head frantically.

“So good,” he said, higher-pitched than he ever wanted to hear his voice, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to get it back to normal. “Don’t stop, please, John-”

He descended on him again; for a few blissful minutes, the hurricane of Alex’s thoughts was silenced, and the only thing he could think about was that perfect tongue on him.

His thighs trembled where they were draped over John’s shoulders, his legs crossed at the ankles and heels digging into John’s back, and his words, usually so eloquent, were reduced to a string of _fuck_ and _yes_ and _there,_ but most of all, _John._

Alex wanted the symphony of sensation to never end, but he knew it would. The pressure was building, building, building in his belly, the warmth pooled behind his navel with every soft lick; and it felt so _different,_ so different to when John had rubbed him to completion with his fingers before, so hot, wet, intense–too much and perfectly right at the same time.

With a last flick of John’s tongue, the tight knot of pleasure in his stomach exploded, and he came with one hand tangled in John’s curls, the other clamped between his teeth to muffle his shout.

His chest heaved with gasping breaths and his legs twitched with the aftershocks when John sat up, wiped his mouth, and crawled back up the bed to pull him close and hold him tight.

“Good?” he asked again, and Alex could hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face–he had watched Alex cum, he knew exactly how good it had been for him.

“Amazing,” Alex replied nonetheless and cuddled closer into John’s chest, eyes slipping shut and body melting into the sheets. “Thank you.”

John hummed, content, and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead; Alex’s heart soared, and he burrowed even closer.

“I love you, darling,” he said, and Alex smiled.

“Love you, too,” he mumbled before sleep claimed him.

* * *

It had been a long day, and Alex had been glad to fall into bed with John and just kiss him for a while. But Alex had been thinking, and when the now familiar fire of need flared up in his stomach, when he pressed himself closer to John and felt his answering bulge against him, when John slipped his fingers between his legs and stroked him until his undergarments were soaked and Alex whimpered into his mouth–he knew.

Alex knew what he wanted that night.

He broke the kiss and pulled away, just far enough he could look John in the eyes without strain.

“John,” he said and bit his lip when the teasing brush of fingers grew firmer. “John, I- I want you. All of you. I want you- want you inside.”

The fingers stopped, and he let out a frustrated whine without meaning to. John looked back at him, eyes wide, but his pupils were blown, light blue irises dark with desire, and Alex’s breath hitched as he reminded himself that John looked like that because of _him._

“Are you sure, darling?” he said, voice low and rumbling with arousal.

Alex swallowed, nodded his head. “Yes. I want you.”

“Fuck,” John breathed and captured his lips again, with new hunger, and rolled them over so Alex was on his back and John could fit himself between his spread thighs. Alex wrapped his arms around his neck and held on, arched his hips up into John’s, and _fuck._

John ground down into him, the only thing separating his hard length from Alex’s crotch a couple thin layers of fabric, and he itched for it, he burned with the need to have him like this.

He made his desire known by tugging sharply on John’s shirt, and John broke away from him for long enough to pull his shirt up over his head and off, then waited for Alex to do the same–he had already rid himself of his bindings, he’d wanted to be comfortable in bed with John, after all–then dove back down to resume their messy kiss.

Alex dragged his hands from John’s shoulders down his chest, felt the pronounced muscles twitch at his touch, and reached down to cup his clothed cock in one hand, gave a firm squeeze that made John abandon his mouth to bury a low groan against his neck.

While he was down there, he moved on to Alex’s breasts, kissed them, nipped at delicate skin and soothed the sting with his tongue, lavished his nipples with gentle attention, and Alex keened.

John had hooked his thumbs beneath the waistband of Alex’s breeches and was about to pull them down, when he suddenly faltered.

Alex pushed himself up onto his elbows and nudged John’s frozen arm with his bent knee until he looked back up at him. 

“What’s wrong?” he said, trying to swallow his unease, trying to shove the nasty thoughts back into the hole they'd crawled out of–did John not really want this? Him? Did he think him disgusting after all? Would he- would he leave?

John chewed on his lip, absentminded, and flickered his eyes down to Alex’s bare stomach.

“Can you- I mean, you could get pregnant from this, couldn’t you?” he said, and Alex drew a sharp breath and shook his head out of reflex, but… the truth was, he could. Even if he didn’t want to think about it, that was a possibility, unless-

“Not if you don’t cum inside, right?”

John blinked, thought it over. “...I guess. Yes, I think so, that’s- yes,” he said, and Alex nodded along, the cold clump in his chest melting away under the renewed fire in his abdomen.

His pants came off, finally, and so did John’s. Alex couldn’t help but bite his lip as he looked down his body and at John’s dick, fully hard and flushed, and saw it in a new light, of sorts. He knew what it felt like against his palm and on his tongue, but he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have it _in him._

He had no comparison, but he’d always thought it was big–he still struggled to fit the whole length into his mouth, and he’d heard time and time again the first time was supposed to hurt, and John wasn’t exactly _small-_

John crawled back over him and planted a soft, closed-mouthed kiss on his lips that helped calm his nerves somewhat. 

“You know we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he murmured, so genuine Alex wanted to cry. He knew John would wait for him. He knew John wouldn’t mind if he was never ready.

“I know,” he said and let out a shaky breath. “But I- I do want to, John. I want _you.”_

John stroked a calloused hand up and down his flank, the motion meant to soothe and calm, and Alex felt himself relax ever so slightly.

“You’re trembling, darling,” he said quietly, and Alex couldn’t deny he _was._ He forced himself to breathe deeply, in and out, slow and steady, and the tremor subsided.

“I’ll be fine. Just… be careful?” he said and ducked his head, feeling a bit silly at his request. He wasn’t some blushing virgin–except that he _was,_ kind of–and he didn’t want John to look at him like he was a weak, breakable little girl, because he wasn’t, he wasn’t weak, he wasn’t breakable, and he sure as fuck wasn’t a _girl._

But John just smiled down at him, bright and so obviously in love it made Alex’s stomach flutter.

“Of course,” he said and kissed him, slow and sweet, and Alex relaxed further into the sheets. “Just promise me you’ll tell me if I hurt you? If you want me to go slower, just say the word, and if you want to stop, we’ll stop, all right?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll tell you, promise,” he said and shot him a nervous half-smile as John leaned his forehead to his, nuzzled their noses together, so innocent, as if he wasn’t about to put his cock into him right about now; Alex chuckled at the thought.

John shifted away for a brief moment to get into position between his legs, and Alex missed him immediately. He wanted him back, close enough he could kiss him, he wanted his body above his so he wouldn’t feel so exposed–and a heartbeat later, he was back, scattered little kisses all over his face and grabbed for Alex’s hand, unmoving on the mattress, to lace their fingers together. He would have called him sappy if he wasn’t so absolutely smitten by that small action.

“Ready, darling?”

“Yes,” he said, attempting to make his voice sound firm, but he doubted it had worked.

“All right,” John mumbled, and the hand not twined with his disappeared from view. “Relax for me.”

And Alex did. He willed his tense muscles to go slack, told himself it was just John, John would rather die than hurt him, he would be gentle, he would make him feel good.

The first nudge of something firm and hot down there was odd, but not bad. Then it breached him, slowly and so gentle, and Alex had to fight to not tense right back up, but he won out over his instinct and let John in.

There was a prick of pain, and uncomfortable pinch, but it was gone so quick, Alex didn’t even have the time to wince, and then- John stilled on top of him, kissed him, squeezed his hand. He had bottomed out, Alex realised. He was in.

And Alex felt so _full,_ but not- not bad.

“All right?” John asked, and Alex grinned up at him and nodded, because _yes,_ he was all right, that hadn’t been half as bad as he’d expected.

“It just hurt for a second,” he said and wiggled his hips a little, enjoyed the small gasp it drew from John. “I- I like it. It’s nice to be so close to you.”

“Well, I’m glad, ‘cause I don’t feel too bad, either,” he chuckled, kissed his lips softly, and gave an experimental shift of his hips that made a spark, hot and electric like lightning, shoot up his spine and fizzle out in the back of his neck.

From the way John looked at him, he knew he had felt something similar, and Alex could have flowed apart into a little puddle of contentment under John’s heavy, heated gaze, so full of adoration it made his heart ache.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered and moved back perhaps an inch before he thrust their hips flush together again. Alex’s free hand flew up to his shoulder and scrambled for purchase, just needing something to hold on to, because with the way his whole body sang at that small movement, he knew he would get lost in this.

A quiet, disbelieving laugh followed by a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth drew his attention again. “I can’t believe someone like you would want to do this with someone like me. You’re perfect, Alex. I love you so much.”

The next thrust of his hips was firmer, more sure, and Alex let out a moan, loud enough John had to silence it with a kiss. He knew he should be quieter, that they really couldn’t afford anyone to overhear, but the gentle push of John inside him had him floating–and suddenly he understood why everyone always talked about this.

It was _heaven,_ he had never been so close to anyone ever before, and it was _John,_ and he loved him so much-

Alex wrapped his legs around John’s waist on instinct, and _oh._ That brought him even closer, he was so far inside him, and Alex couldn’t remember how he had survived without this up to that point.

“John,” he whimpered and lifted his hips to meet his sure movements, clumsy with inexperience and uncoordinated from the sheer pleasure that clouded his senses, but John didn’t mind; of course not, because he was perfect, because he loved Alex _so much._

He picked up the pace once again, let his hips snap into his, every thrust accompanied by the gentle squeal of the bed-frame. John was making just as much noise as Alex now, but lower, more controlled, and he stifled his groans either into Alex’s mouth or his neck, planted searing hot kisses wherever he could reach, and they burned into his skin, marked him as John’s–the thought brought tears to his eyes. 

He couldn't let them fall, because then John would stop, but the thought alone, that he was John’s and John was his, it fed the fire and drew the cluster of pressure in his belly tighter.

Alex sobbed out a string of _I love you_ ’s and prodded at John’s shoulder until he pushed himself up and captured his lips again–he could have stayed like that forever, John inside him, John on top of him, the firm, perfectly sculpted muscle of John’s body beneath his palm, the bulk of him between his legs, keeping them spread, John’s taste on his tongue, his fingers laced with his.

When John pulled away, he kissed at a small tear that had escaped Alex despite his best efforts. “Still all right?” he asked, low, voice wrecked, and Alex huffed a wet laugh.

“Fuck, never been better, you- you feel so good, I think I’m close-”

“Fuck,” he panted and shifted his weight to the hand linked with Alex’s, pressing both of them deeper into the mattress, so he could reach his now free hand between their bodies.

Alex was too far gone to even attempt to think about what John was going to do with that hand, so when calloused but impossibly gentle fingertips rubbed at his sensitive little nub down there, Alex’s whole body jerked with it as stars exploded before his inner eye. 

“Cum for me, darling,” John murmured to him, hot breath against his cheek, and he _did._

Every muscle went taut as his orgasm swept over him, wave after wave of pure sensation, his toes curled against John’s lower back, his back arched clean off the mattress, and thank God at least John was thinking and sealed his lips with another kiss, or Alex would have _screamed._

He barely registered it when his whole body went slack and his legs fell away from John’s hips, thighs trembling with the aftershocks, and John pulled out of him. There was a splatter of something hot and sticky on his skin, and Alex glanced down to see John had finished on his stomach, which- yeah. Smart. He had forgotten about that.

“Love you,” he said and reached out for John, lethargic, his bones too heavy.

John settled next to him and enveloped him in strong arms, oblivious or simply not interested in the fact that they were both sweaty, that the damp sheets stuck to their skin, and that Alex had cum drying on his stomach.

Well. Alex couldn’t say he particularly cared about any of that either at the moment. He just cuddled close and let John stroke a hand through his sweaty hair, pressed small kisses to John’s collarbone, and held on.

“Hey, Alex,” he said. Alex hummed a note to communicate he was still awake, but couldn’t find it in him to open his eyes again. “I love you, too.”

And Alex smiled, content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I also have a [Tumblr](http://binch-i-might-be.tumblr.com)!


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